


you've waited so long and I've waited long enough for you

by ladyvivien



Series: Behind the Scenes [1]
Category: British Actor RPF, James Bond (Movies) RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Daniel's having some gentleman's alone time, F/M, Judi doesn't knock, Masturbation, Voyeurism, is there some kind of special British hell for this? somewhere with no tea where it never rains?, oh my god she's a Dame of the British Empire and I'm writing porn about her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-22
Updated: 2012-12-22
Packaged: 2017-11-22 01:49:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/604490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyvivien/pseuds/ladyvivien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She should knock, of course, but the good thing about being a national treasure is that it’s incredibly easy to just go and do whatever you want, because people wouldn’t dream of stopping you. She could probably hold Marks and Spencers up at gunpoint and the headline would be ‘Judi Dench Goes Shopping, Isn’t That Nice?’</p>
            </blockquote>





	you've waited so long and I've waited long enough for you

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, I am so going to hell for this.
> 
> In my defence, Judi Dench gave an interview claiming to have seen Daniel Craig's cock and that it was "an absolute monster". So naturally, fic had to be written. 
> 
> It's set during the filming of Casino Royale - wherever the hotel scenes with Bond and M were shot - and the title is from Aimee Mann's Mr Harris.

She should knock, of course, but the good thing about being a national treasure is that it’s incredibly easy to just go and do whatever you want, because people wouldn’t dream of stopping you. She could probably hold Marks and Spencers up at gunpoint and the headline would be ‘Judi Dench Goes Shopping, Isn’t That Nice?’ 

Well, fuck nice. Nice doesn’t get you a career that spans five decades and counting, nice doesn’t get you your pick of the admittedly meagre roles for women over 50 on stage and screen. And nice certainly doesn’t get you into the trailer of your incredibly dishy co-star without knocking.

She only means to surprise him, flirt a little, ask if he wants a cup of tea (as if there aren’t a hundred women on set, younger and prettier, who’d give him whatever he wants). But he doesn’t hear her come in.

No, the man of the hour is a little distracted at the moment.

Daniel is sprawled out on the sofa, suit trousers and boxers shoved down his thighs, shirt and jacket folded neatly over the back of a chair. He's tugging on his cock frantically, eyes closed and a look of blissed-out rapture on his face. It's the first time she's seen him look relaxed since his casting was announced. One hand moves between his legs, his fingers rubbing against his perineum, and she can't help the moan that slithers out from her throat. 

His eyes snap open.

Even though she's the one who walked in without knocking, even though she's standing there gawking at him, he looks mortified. 

"Fuck! Judi, I'm...Christ..." He moves to pull his jeans up, one hand covering his cock and balls (or attempting to, at any rate) and she finds herself saying

"Don't." He freezes, staring at her. "Don't stop on my account, Daniel." She smirks. "Not when you were just beginning to enjoy yourself."

He follows her gaze down to the slick, swollen head of his cock. Eyeing her warily, waiting for her approval, he slowly wraps his fingers around his shaft and starts stroking again.

"There," she purrs. "Doesn't that feel better?" He swallows, nodding. "It must be hard for you, all those pretty girls hanging off your every word.”

He laughs, a harsh bark that bounces off the walls. 

"I’ve hardly noticed.”

Her heart starts thumping. She knows what’s coming next. It’s why she keeps making excuses to visit his trailer, that burning look he gives her when he thinks no one’s looking. Silly boy, he should have realised that now everyone is looking at him. Including her.

“No?” she asks archly. “Then what were you thinking about?”

His eyes flutter shut, and a blush creeps across his cheeks.

“You. I was thinking about you.”

“Naughty boy. You know I’m too old for you, don’t you?”

He groans, nodding, and she feels that flicker of desire spark low down in her body. He isn’t the first charming young man to watch her - subtly or less so - and she knows how she should handle this. She should tease him, flirt a little, and then walk away. The last thing she ought to do is stay and watch, to urge him on. 

“You’re not the first pretty boy to wank over me, darling,” she purrs. “I doubt you’ll be the last.” 

He makes a strangled, eager noise at her words. Well, if that’s what he wants...

“I don’t normally get to watch, but I know they do it,” she continues, her voice low and warm. “All those eager young things, wanting me to teach them. I’ve been the cause of stained sheets in digs across the country, Daniel. You shouldn’t be any different.”

It’s almost comical, the way he manages to give her that hurt-puppy look whilst he’s fisting his cock in front of her.

“But you are,” she murmurs. “You’re something special, aren’t you?” She pulls up a chair, and crosses her legs primly, never taking her eyes off him. “And I’m not just talking about that magnificent cock.” He moans, but a smug smile glints in his eyes. “It is a beauty, though. No wonder they wanted you in your swimming trunks. It’s going to be positively pornographic.” She flashes him a feral smile and watches him nearly lose control. “I can’t wait.”

“I bet you can’t,” he hisses. She’s surprised - she hadn’t expected him to talk back. Still, she’ll see where this goes. She can always shut him up if she wants to, she suspects he’s delightfully good at taking orders. “I want to sit next to you at the premiere,” he mutters, breath coming in strangled pants. “I want to be there when you ease your hand into your knickers and start fingering yourself during that scene. Knowing what’s beneath the fabric. Knowing how fucking hard you make me.”

She wants to do it now. Wants to touch herself through dampening silk whilst he puts on a show for her. Wants to come as he watches her greedily, then sink to her knees and take him all, hot and hard in her mouth. But she’s clinging on to her last vestiges of professionalism (and besides, her knees would never take it. Growing old is such a bitch sometimes).

“Is that what you’re thinking about?” Call her an egotist, but she wants to know. 

He shakes his head, closing his eyes again. He’s so beautiful when he’s ashamed. 

“Tell me,” she orders, a hint of M in her voice. “And look at me when I’m talking to you.”

He swears softly, but does as she asks. His big blue eyes are almost black with desire, pupils blown and rolling back in his head at the sensations he’s giving himself. 

“I want to eat you out,” he mumbles, and it sends a jolt of liquid heat right between her legs. “I want to get my tongue on your cunt and make you beg for it. You gonna let me, Jude?” He’s slurring slightly now, so close to orgasm he can barely form the words. She’s going to make him. 

“I might,” she says in the clipped, prissy tone she knows he’s dying to hear. “Are you going to make it good for me, Daniel? Tell me. Tell me what you want to do to me.”

“Going to lick you,” he growls. “Taste you, make you all wet and messy for me. Get you ready to take my cock.”

A whimper makes it past her lips. Christ, she wants him. She’s tried to ignore it, to joke about it, to exorcise it with her hands between her legs on the nights after they film together, but nothing can truly quell the desire. Knowing he had a little crush was one thing. Seeing the result of it, hard and heavy and leaking pre-cum into his hand, is something else entirely and there’s no way she can go back to acting like this never happened. Even she isn’t that good. 

“Are you wet?” he whispers, looking at her with pleading eyes. “This is turning you on, isn’t it? Watching me like this?”

Oh, all that boyish eagerness, the need to please, to have her approval! He’s not the first and he won’t be the last, but maybe he can be the one who’ll wear down her resistance. He’s caught her at precisely the right moment - it’s been long enough since Michael that she’s dying for the touch of a hand that isn’t hers against her skin, and she knows it won’t be too long before she moves from sexy-in-an-older-woman sort of way to completely past it. Surely she can indulge just once, surely she’s earned it?

“Yes,” she whispers. “Yes, Daniel, you’re getting me very wet. Seeing how hard I make you. Such a big boy, I’m not sure I can take all of you...”

He whines - actually whines! - and ruts against his hand feverishly. 

“That’s it,” she says, and if her voice is more soothing than she meant it to be, well he seems to appreciate it. “That’s it, Dan, stroke your big cock for me. You’re so close, aren’t you darling? So close to coming as I watch you. How often do you do this, hmm? Sneak off to your trailer after we’ve filmed a scene and had a quick wank imagining all the things I could teach you?”

He’s swearing now, softly under his breath, she’s not sure he’s even aware of it. A lot, then.

“So close,” he mutters. “Gonna come so hard for you Jude, fuck...”

“Go on,” she urges. “Squeeze those beautiful balls for me, Dan, come all over your hands.”

His hips start to cant up, and the sight is so beautiful, so filthy, it should be illegal. Her cunt is slick and her nipples are rock hard and her clit is begging for attention and she wants nothing more than to straddle him and slam down on his thick shaft and ride out their orgasm together. 

He comes just as hard as he promised, spunking messily into his hand, his chest, the inside of the incredibly-expensive suit he’s not supposed to so much as wrinkle. Well, it’s method, she supposes. 

He recovers slowly, breathing heavily, glazed eyes starting to come back into focus, and the reality of what she’s just done hits her with full force. She feels dizzy and her heart is racing again, not with desire but with the need to get out of here, into the fresh air and away from this man young enough to be her son, young enough to be disgusted with her once the euphoria from his orgasm fades and he’s left with the reality of her, all lines and grey hair and wrinkles. She doesn’t want to see that look on his face, so she does the only thing that makes sense - pastes a polite smile onto her face, and says in a voice that she hopes doesn’t shake too much,

“I’ll see myself out. Careful of that suit.”

He doesn’t stop her leaving, just watches in silence as she joins the mêlée outside, and blames her flushed cheeks on the warm summer air.


End file.
